


I want you. To Stay. Or just in general. I want you.

by lonelydoctors



Series: i always come when you call (& dean will always call for cas) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Caretaking, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Comfort/Angst, Emotionally Repressed, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, Kidnapping, Love Confessions, M/M, Matchmaker Sam Winchester, Mutual Pining, Romantic Fluff, and they both love each other, ask me to stay/tell me you won't go parallel, basically cas saves dean, cas gets pissed that dean's pissed, dean gets pissed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelydoctors/pseuds/lonelydoctors
Summary: “What’s so different about me, then?” Dean snaps, and feels the anger rise up in his chest. He’s not entirely sure why he can’t just give it a rest. “Why not Sam? Or Bobby? Or Charlie? Or any othergoddamnperson you know on thisgodforsakenearth?”“Because I am not in love with them!”Or: Cas tries to give his life for Dean and they talk feelings after
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: i always come when you call (& dean will always call for cas) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086332
Comments: 9
Kudos: 191





	I want you. To Stay. Or just in general. I want you.

**Author's Note:**

> > soooo, guess who's been pulled into _this_ rabbit hole.... (it's me, hi hello)

“Dean!”

The heavy iron door to the hidden bunker breaks open with a flash of light and a bang as loud as thunder and the twenty something witches in the room all swivel around at once, immediately on high alert.

“Cas…” Dean manages to croak as his eyes adjust to the sudden and bright light. His breath wheezes and blood drips down his neck and into his torn shirt, but still, there’s a flutter of hope in his chest when he makes out the figure of Cas in the doorway, his face draped in shadows as the light from outside illuminates him from behind.

“Cas, they…” Dean starts, his voice merely a whisper, “they…”

He tries to warn Cas, tries to tell him about the others hiding upstairs, about the poisonous gas, about the spells in the walls, but even if it weren’t for the sudden piercing pain in his lower abdomen that has him gasping for air, Cas stops him short.

“I’m here, Dean,” is everything Cas says before he steps forward out of the shadows and into the dim light of the room, a look of fury and rage on his face that reminds Dean of the thunderstorms he used to chase as a kid.

Dean’s eyes flicker towards the witch to the far left who’s reaching for something inside her coat. “How did you–“

Her sentence is also cut short, when suddenly an iron blade pierces her chest, launched at her with immense speed, and Cas starts running around the room, moving with a speed and an intensity Dean has only seem him use once before.

All hell breaks loose around Dean when the witches who kept him hostage for weeks on end fall to the floor all around him, limp and lifeless, like they’re mere flies and not monsters who have tortured him day and night.

It’s then that Dean is reminded again of who Cas really is. He’s not this dorky angel slash human being who goes on hunts with them and occasionally dresses up as a cowboy. He’s a literal _angel_ , a billion old creature who’s true form can’t even be _perceived_ by humans, with a voice that shatters windows and eardrums, with so much power flowing through his veins even demons fear him, an ancient being that’s too powerful to even comprehend – a soldier of god.

And he’s family.

“Cas…” Dean whispers, quietly, inaudible, and the shadow of a smile starts to play around his lips, pulling the corners up until the dry and chapped skin tears.

Cas heard him anyway, _of course he did_ , and his head turns, blue eyes catching Dean’s and time stops for the fraction of a second.

It stops for more than an eternity when a strong hand grips Dean’s head and the tip of a knife is pressed to his neck, his weakened and broken body screaming at the rough motion.

“Break it off, _angel_.”

Dean holds his breath, eyes frantically searching for Cas who stops dead in his tracks, bloody knife raised above his head, and he hates himself for being weak.

Deadly silence stretches across the room as the few remaining witches compose themselves, watching and waiting, for Cas to make a mistake.

“Either you drop that fucking blade of yours and scuttle right back to heaven where you belong or this pretty boy here pays the price.”

“Cas, don’t–“ Dean rasps, but doesn’t get very far when suddenly a flame licks at his stomach and scorches the already charred skin there.

They can win this. Cas almost got them all and it’s not like Dean’s never been in a situation like this before, he’ll survive this, he’s sure of it. As long as Cas doesn’t give them what they want, as long as he doesn’t surrender, they will be fine. _Cas_ will be fine.

Dean’s eyes frantically search for Cas’, trying to tell him _it’s okay, Cas, keep fighting, we can do this._

He opens his mouth again, to say that, and Cas drops his blade. And raises his hands in silent surrender.

The witches surrounding the two of them cackle and laugh and Cas looks at Dean, his face smeared with blood and eyes sorrowful, as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths (so very _human_ ).

“You’re so predictable, angel,” the witch closest to Cas mocks, “have you considered _not_ parading your weakness around like that?”

They all howl with laughter and she raises something that looks suspiciously like an angel blade, making a move towards Cas, who stands rooted to the spot, his eyes turned downwards.

Suddenly the grip on Dean’s head loosens and the knife pressed to his neck clatters to the floor. The witches all tumble and follow the knife, and the last thing Dean sees before he loses consciousness are Sam and Bobby, the last thing he feels a gentle hand cradling his cheek and a flurry of feathers wrapping around his body.

∆ — ∆

When Dean comes to, he’s worried.

He’s in a lot of pain and the last thing he remembers is Cas surrendering himself to witches in order to save him. Something must have happened to him, that’s why his wounds still weren’t mended, why he’s still in pain even though Cas’ grace should have fixed him up by now.

After a few attempts, Dean finally manages to crack his eyes open, heart beating erratically in his throat, and he half-expects to still be in the witches lair, Cas tied up and broken next to him.

Instead, he finds himself in his own bed surrounded by the familiar smell of the bunker. It’s dark outside, but Dean’s got no idea what time it is or even for how long he’s been asleep for. He turns his head to find Sam sitting at his bedside in a chair, asleep.

“Sammy…” he wheezes, shifting slightly, and Sam immediately jumps up, blinking fast. He’s at his side in less than a second.

“Dean!” he exclaims, and then, softer, “You’re okay. How’re you feeling?”

“Where’s Cas?”

His voice sounds rough and scratchy, like it hasn’t been used in a while, but his eyes are determined and panicked as they search Sam’s for any indication that something’s not right.

“He’s okay. I sent him on an errand with Bobby, he’s been here the last few days… figured he should take a break,” Sam replies, suddenly a knowing look in his eyes. “I offered to take over for a while.”

With the information that Cas has apparently not been killed by bitchy witches, the adrenaline leaves Dean’s body abruptly and for the first time since waking up, he feels the searing pain in his limbs and lets his leaden body sink back into the pillows. He falls asleep again almost immediately.

∆ — ∆

When Dean wakes up a second time, he’s angry.

The pain is now considerably less than the first time he woke up, and now that he knows Cas and Sam and Bobby are safe, there’s nothing left to channel his energy into other than the burning hot anger in his stomach.

His mind gives him an almost cinematic replay of the moment Cas willingly decided to drop his blade in surrender, basically handing himself to them on a silver platter.

“Cas!” Dean shouts and throws the blanket off himself, getting out of bed, “Cas, get your ass over here, right now!”

It takes less than a second for Cas to appear by his side, touching his elbow to steady him the moment Dean stumbles, threatening to fall.

“Dean…” Cas says and tries to guide Dean back into bed, “You’re awake.” His voice sounds relieved, and exhausted.

Dean tears his arm out of Cas’ grip and refuses to sit back down. He glares at Cas, and when clenching his fist sends a bolt of pain through his arm, he grinds his teeth instead.

“What the _fuck_ happened back there, Cas?”

Silence falls in the room and stretches between them, until only Dean’s heavy breathing cuts through it and Cas’ mouth snaps shut, opens, and closes again, without any words coming out. He furrows his brows, trying to make sense of what’s happening, trying to make sense of Dean’s sudden anger.

“I’m sorry…” he says finally, “I’m sorry, Dean, I believe I failed you again.”

There’s a pause, but Dean doesn’t reply, so Cas goes on.

“I tried my best to heal your wounds, but for some reason,” he licks his lips and draws his brows closer together in irritation, “for some reason, my grace didn’t work and I was left watching your body heal itself in your own time.”

“That’s–that’s not–what–“ Dean growls and cards his hand through his sweaty strands of hair, clearly frustrated. “What the _fuck_ , Cas?! That’s not what I’m talking about man, and you know it!”

“I do?” Cas replies, and tilts his head in confusion.

“Yah, dude, I’m not talking about the fact that I don’t feel brand-new and energised after being tortured for a week, I’m talking about the fact that you mindlessly rushed to offer up your own life as if–!”

Dean stops and closes his mouth, pressing his lips into a thin line as he clenches his fist anyway.

“Dean…” Cas says slowly, like he’s trying to make him understand something obvious, “I didn’t die. I was never even close to death at any point–”

“How could you _possibly_ know that, Cas?”

“I couldn’t. But even if I had, somehow, misjudged the situation, it was the only logical choice in this scenario. You have to realise that, Dean.”

“No, Cas, it fucking wasn’t!” Dean takes a step towards Cas, his jaw clenching and unclenching and his fist twitching. Cas doesn’t move a single millimetre. “Tell me, what would’ve happened, huh? Me, alive, but at what cost, Cas? Does it, somehow, excusethe death of thousands of other people? The death of you, or Bobby, or Sam? Tell me, Cas, what made you think that would’ve been the right choice in _any_ scenario?”

Suddenly, Cas was getting angry too, he straightens his back and takes a step towards Dean, glaring at him with ice blue eyes.

“Oh, so you’re telling me that it is okay for _you_ to walk around sacrificing yourself for everyone and everything that even looks at you nicely, but when I decide to do it, it is wrong and unreasonable?”

“ _Yes_.”

There’s a pause and the tension seems almost palpable as a flicker of something Dean can’t identify flits across Cas’ eyes. He drags his teeth across his bottom lip and adds, “You don’t get to decide whether or not to die for me. Never.”

“I do, actually. And I would gladly decide to do so, over and over again, if only it meant your life was being spared.” Cas’ voice is calm and collected but his whole body is shaking, vibrating with barely concealed rage and Dean’s mind flashes back to the moment he saw Cas mercilessly and effortlessly killing the witches one by one.

“What’s so different about me, then?” Dean snaps, and feels the anger rise up in his chest. He’s not entirely sure why he can’t just give it a rest. “Why not Sam? Or Bobby? Or Charlie? Or any other _goddamn_ person you know on this _godforsaken_ earth?”

“Because I am not in love with them!”

Dean’s mouth snaps shut and his anger retreats into the depths of his stomach, a wave of shock and confusion washing it away, and only the sound of Cas’ shaky breathing fills the room. Dean can’t help but think, even now, how human this simple process makes Cas seem.

He swallows and opens his mouth, unsure what to say, but certain that he has to say _something_ , because this is _Cas_ and this is happening and he needs to get this right.

Before he can say anything (though he’s not sure he would have managed to say anything anyway) Cas clears his throat and takes multiple steps back, putting distance between them that hasn’t been there for a while.

It’s his eyes, however, that make Dean swallow hard and take a step back himself–because they’re empty. Cas’ face is completely blank, wiped of all and any emotion, and Dean didn’t think it would hurt so much, but it does, and he realises suddenly that all he ever did while talking to Cas was observe the endless flurry of feelings and emotions, some old and familiar, some new and exciting, flit across his features, laid open and bare for all to see, like those of a child.

Now, there’s nothing, like Cas has left the building, shut his doors and put up walls all around, and it feels wrong.

“I believe it is time for me to leave now,” Cas says, and avoids Dean’s gaze as he turns, his voice as blank as his eyes, _but_ , Dean thinks, _still beautiful. Still Cas_.

In the end, Dean doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know how, or he doesn’t know what. He lets Cas leave and goes to bed.

∆ — ∆

When Dean wakes up the next morning, at first he doesn’t remember what happened. Then it hits him like a brick wall and he jumps out of bed and runs down the stairs, taking two at a time, until he arrives in the kitchen.

“Where’s Cas?” he yells and Sam looks up from his bowl of cereal, confused.

“Dunno. I thought he talked to you yesterday?”

“Shit,” Dean mutters and runs a hand through his bed hair, “ _shitshitshitshit_.”

“Dean,” Sam asks and gets up, worried now. “What happened? Where’s Cas?”

“That’s the thing, Sammy!” Dean says and laughs, a weird mix of fear and adrenaline, “I don’t know…I think he might have left…”

His voice is barely above a whisper at the end, because, maybe, if he doesn’t say it, it’s not real. Maybe, if he closes his eyes and goes back to sleep, last night never happened, and Cas would still be here and he wouldn’t be so angry this time and maybe none of this would ever have happened.

Just as Sam’s about to say something, brows furrowed in confusion, a quiet cough behind them interrupts him.

“I’m sorry for intruding, but I wanted to say my goodbyes…properly this time.”

“Cas!” Dean spins around and stares at the angel in front of him. He looks the same, he thinks, he’s wearing the same trench coat he always wears, the same white shirt and black trousers, the same messy hair that somehow never needs to get cut. But still, his eyes are cold and darker than usual, his expression withdrawn and reserved and his back just a little bit too straight.

“Cas?” Sam asks suddenly, breaking the silence, and Dean wonders if Sam can feel it too, the tension in the air. “What happened, buddy? Where’re you going?”

“I assume I might have overstayed my welcome here. It’s time for me to–“

“Stay.”

Cas stops talking and looks at Dean, really looks at him, for the first time since last night, and Dean feels a surge of confidence run through him.

“Please. Stay,” he repeats and Cas’ lips part slightly as he tilts his head a little and his shoulders relax.

“…I’m not sure I understand. It must cause you discomfort having me around after…after yesterday.”

Dean smiles, slowly, cautiously, and takes a step towards Cas, at the same time as Sam takes several steps back, quietly removing himself from the situation.

“You really are the most human of them all, you know that, Cas?”

Cas merely tilts his head further, his brows creased and lips pursed, an image of confusion, so Dean decides to put him out of his misery.

He takes a deep breath and another step towards Cas, slowly lifting his hand and carefully placing it on his cheek. Instantly, Cas’ eyes slide shut as he leans into the touch, all tension and stiffness leaving his body.

“I want you. To stay. And just in general. I want you.”

Everything seems to stop in that moment and Dean’s dead sure even Sam in the other room can hear his erratic heartbeat, but then Cas lifts his arms and wraps them around Dean’s mid, hugging him tight.

Cas swallows against Dean’s throat and pulls away a bit, until he can look into his eyes. “I lo–“

“I know,” Dean says, because he sees it in his eyes, all of it, and because he might have known for a long time now. “I do, too.”

(After a while, Cas untangles himself from the hug and smirks up at him, a playful glint in his eyes. “So, does that officially give me permission to sacrifice myself for you now?”

“Oh, you _know_ it doesn’t.”)

**Author's Note:**

> okay so do we all agree that they're both idiots?  
> [tumblr](https://lonelydoctors.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/lonelydoctorss)


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